


Lookin' For Something Dumb To Do

by lockmyheart



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domesticity, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Scheming, mention of canon bipolar disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1572305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lockmyheart/pseuds/lockmyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey's acting suspiciously. In fact, the whole Gallagher family is acting suspiciously, and it's driving Ian up the walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lookin' For Something Dumb To Do

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a cheesy little feel-good fic that I felt like doing. It's inspired by a real wedding proposal I watched a video of while ago, but I couldn't find it again to link it to you guys. 
> 
> The song used is Bruno Mars's 'Marry You'.
> 
> This is un-beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Feel free to point out typos and the like so I can fix them.

Mickey had been acting sketchy as fuck for the last two weeks. Ian couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was exactly, but Mickey was up to something. He kept sneaking off to do whatever, always trying to hide a smug little smirk. The most telling sign that something very strange was going on was the shady phone calls. One evening Ian caught Mickey on the phone with Fiona, speaking to her in a hushed voice and hastily saying “Shit, have to go” when he noticed Ian scowling at him by the door.

“Seriously, Mickey?”

Mickey looked ridiculous trying to act all inconspicuous. “What?”

Ian crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowing. “Why were you talking to Fiona?”

“I’m not allowed to talk to your family? _And_ how do you know it was Fiona, huh?”

Ian rolled his eyes. “I heard you say her name and you just confirmed it anyway. You never talk to them on the phone. You havin’ an affair, huh?”

 “What, with your sister?” Mickey stood up, holding back a smile. “Damn, you caught me.”

Ian walked towards him and tugged him closer by the hips. Mickey went with it, his hands landing on Ian’s shoulders, wearing that smug smirk again. “I _will_ find out what you’re up to,” Ian said, curling his arms around Mickey’s middle. “I’ll—“

Mickey shut him up with a hard kiss and kept kissing him as he pulled him backwards towards the bedroom.  

* * *

 

Seriously, what the hell?

A week after the weird call Ian sat in his and Mickey’s bedroom, glaring down at the most recent text on his phone.

_From: Lip  
Nothing to tell_

What kind of answer to ‘what the hell is going on?’ was that? If there actually _was_ nothing to tell then you would say ‘what are you talking about’, not _nothing to tell_. That only proved they were hiding something, for fuck’s sake. They were _all_ hiding something. His entire family was scheming behind his back.

With a groan of frustration, Ian flung his phone to the foot of the bed where it bounced twice before settling right on the edge.

His birthday wasn’t in months, so he knew it wasn’t some kind of lame surprise party, and considering his boyfriend didn’t have a uterus he wasn’t in for some ‘congratulations we’re pregnant’ party either. He was drawing a complete blank here. 

Ian crawled down and picked his phone back up. He typed in a quick text to Mickey, sending it off with an angry jab at the ‘send’ button.

_TELL ME!_

It was a last desperate plea. He hated being on the outside. Even Liam, nine years old and a terrible liar, refused to say anything. Oh, Ian had tried, he had even _bribed._ But no, the little shit had just made zip-lock movement over his lips and that was that. Nothing would come out of him.

Ian’s phone vibrated in his hand.

_From: Mickey :)  
_ _Leftovers 4 dinner?_

_I fucking hate you_

_From: Mickey :)  
Love u 2_

Ian smiled down at the message before he caught himself and quickly turned off the screen and stalked out into the living room.

That night they ate yesterday’s chicken curry leftovers while watching Mickey’s old Star Wars DVDs. Ian sat on the left side of the couch, back against the armrest with his long legs thrown over Mickey’s lap acting like a table for Mickey’s plate. It was a comfortable position they often found themselves in on lazy evenings, but this night Ian alternated between irritated chewing – yes, apparently there is such a thing – and pointed glares.

Mickey pretended not to notice Ian’s dark and suspicious scowls, acting as if he was completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s suffering.

When they had finished eating Mickey started absentmindedly massaging Ian’s feet, a dirty fucking trick because it soon made Ian forget what he was even annoyed about.  

They ended up having slow, lazy sex on the couch, Star Wars still running in the background.

* * *

 

_From: Lip_  
_Come to the house tonight at 8, family dinner, everyone’ll be there_

Sometime during the past week Ian had managed to forget whatever it was his family was plotting behind his back, so when he got the text from Lip he didn’t think anything of it. He turned over in bed, pressing his front to Mickey’s back. He kissed his naked shoulder blade, burying his face in his neck and sliding an arm around him. “Morning.”

Mickey didn’t stir; he had long since stopped startling awake as if it was wartime, a much welcomed result of suffering through hours upon hours of therapy. After moving out they had both sat down and had a proper talk. They had agreed (after a lot of shouting and door slamming) that Mickey had some shit that couldn’t be resolved by simply moving away. So while Ian had weekly sessions with Dr. Parker, a specialist on bipolar disorder, Mickey had biweekly sessions with Dr. Sanders, a specialist on overcoming child abuse. Mickey went twice a week for a month (including the few times he skipped. Ian wasn’t an idiot, he knew when Mickey had gone to a bar instead of therapy), then he and Ian both went once a week for a couple of months until it was just once a month for the both of them. Ian still went every now and then but Mickey and Dr. Sanders had both agreed after two years that he was ‘good to go’, as Mickey put it. He still had the doctor’s number, just in case, but all in all talking about their shitty fucking lives with someone who was basically a stranger had helped more than either of them would have guessed going into it. They were new people now, they were grown-up and _better._

So no, Mickey no longer flinched when he was touched unexpectedly and he didn’t stir when Ian wrapped his arms around him in the mornings. He simply sighed softly and slowly wrapped his fingers around Ian’s wrist. “Mornin’. What was that text?”

“Lip,” Ian murmured, his lips moving against Mickey’s warm skin. “Some sort of family dinner tonight. I’m looking forward to it, it’s been a while since I saw them all together. You working or can you come?”

“Yeah, sure,” Mickey hummed and turned around in his arms so they were face to face. “Hey.”

Ian chuckled. “Hi.”

They shared a brief kiss, their legs tangling together underneath the blankets. “Oh, and.” Mickey smiled. “Happy anniversary.”

Ian was just as surprised each year that went by that Mickey remembered. The first year he had been so shocked that Mickey had even remembered the date, without any kind of reminder whatsoever, that he hadn’t been able to say at all anything for several long seconds. They didn’t count from the first fuck, that would have made this their tenth anniversary (shit, that made him feel old). They counted from the night Mickey burst kicking and screaming out of the closet and later that night whispered “Yeah, I’m your fucking boyfriend” into Ian’s ear before they fell asleep, battered and bruised but so fucking happy.

That was seven years ago. Today they had jobs and an okay apartment and a fucking goldfish named Patrick because Mickey was allergic to anything with fur.

“Can’t believe I’ve woken up to your stupid face for seven years,” Ian teased and it earned him a sharp slap on his backside.

There was something strange in Mickey’s eyes that Ian couldn’t interpret. It was there right under the surface, making his face look serious and intense.  

“What?” Ian breathed, but of course Mickey wasn’t about to tell him.  All he did was smile softly before kissing him in a way that made Ian’s heart speed up. Sometimes Ian couldn’t believe they were here and he still sometimes watched Mickey sleep, full of wonder at how he had managed to capture Mickey Milkovich’s heart and convince him to step into this domestic sphere they had created for themselves. Mandy called them gross and disgusting but she always said it with a fond smile.

“Nothing.” Mickey stroked his face briefly before he pulled away and got out of bed. “I have to get to work, I’ll meet you at the house though.”

Ian sat up, stretching, his back popping, a sound that never failed to make Mickey cringe. “Lip said to meet at eight. Don’t be late.”

Mickey pulled on his underwear and Ian stared at his ass unabashedly. “I’m never late,” he argued, bending over to pick up his discarded jeans.

“Ha. You’re always late, babe.”

Mickey turned around, eyebrow raised. “What have I told you about that shit? The moment we step into the realm of cheesy domestic pet-names is the moment we’ve gone way too far. Next thing we know I’ll be coming home from work saying ‘honey, I’m home’ and find you in the kitchen cooking dinner. I refuse.”

Ian grinned. “Sorry, baby, it won’t happen again.”

“I fuckin’ hate you,” Mickey grumbled, hiding his smile as he went to search for a clean shirt.

“Be there before eight! Before!” Ian called, hearing the door to the bathroom click shut.

* * *

 

_8.00!!!!_

Ian chuckled to himself as he sent the text, sitting on the el on the way to the house. He couldn’t wait to see his family all in one room again, it felt like forever since New Year’s Eve, which was the last time they had all spent time together. The only people who still lived in the old house were Fiona, Carl, Liam and, of course, Frank. You never got rid of Frank, not that he was home much anyway. Debbie had just started college and was dating this kid named Rick, whom Mickey and Lip had actually spent an evening stalking just to make sure he was an okay guy. Lip had by some miracle managed to worm himself out of the south side by cheating and lying his way into some fancy firm where you wore suits and shit to work. His apartment was a lot nicer than Ian and Mickey’s but that was alright. Good for him.

His phone vibrated in his pocket just as he stepped off the train.

_From: Mickey :)  
I REMEMBER, I DO NOT HAVE ALZHEIMERS_

Ian’s laughter earned him a few raised eyebrows from the people around him. He knew Mickey though, he would still find a way to be late, either by pissing off someone at work and getting into a fight, or by missing the el and having to wait for the next one.

Ian made his way to his childhood home with a smile on his face. There were some bad memories here as well, but all in all it had ended well for him so the bad ones didn’t bother him as much anymore.

It was dark outside, and cold enough for him to see his own breath. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Because of the dark it was easy to spot the large candles that made up a path from the street and all the way up to the entrance door, almost like some sort of runway.

“The fuck?”

Apprehensive, he started on the way into the yard, but just when he had stepped in between the first set of candles, low music started playing. He looked around in confusion.

The music gradually got louder and louder and then a giant spotlight was switched on, directed onto the roof above the porch, where –what the fuck?--- Mickey was sitting, cross-legged right there on the edge. Ian’s jaw dropped open and he looked over to find the source of the spotlight. He found it in the corner of the yard, with Liam crouched behind it.

“What…?”

Ian turned around, as if waiting to wake up from a dream, and that’s when he saw his family, including Kev and V with their kids, Debbie’s boyfriend Rick, Mandy, and even Sheila, standing there right across the road, just watching him. Where had they come from? Even fucking Frank was there and Ian hadn’t seen Frank in at least six months.

It took a while, but then Ian realized that the moment the spotlight had been turned on the lyrics had begun at the same time. He turned back to Mickey, having completely missed the first couple lines of the song. What the hell was he doing on the roof, what was this?

He gasped softly when he saw Mickey holding up a large white flashcard for him to read.

‘This is the cheesiest thing I have ever done,’ the card said, the words written with a thick black marker.

After a couple of seconds he changed cards, placing the used one next to him on the roof. He seemed to be holding a pretty significant amount of them.

‘So cherish this moment, because it won’t happen again. Here goes.’

Mickey took a deep breath, steeling himself, and threw away the last card, holding up a new one.

‘I was lost, angry, and a fucking mess’

‘Until you decided to poke me with a tire iron’

Ian laughed. It sounded just as confused and bewildered as he felt. Behind him he heard his family and friends laugh as well. Louder than the laughs was the song that played: _Is it the look in your eyes? Or is it this dancing juice? Who cares, baby…_

‘And you brought sense into my life’

_I think I wanna marry you_

At that, Mickey fumbled a bit before he got to the next card, his fingers struggling to get a hold. Ian’s heart was all of a sudden in his throat. The song lyrics… Surely this wasn’t a…? No, impossible.

‘Although I didn’t want to admit it’

‘(I was still a fucking mess though)’

‘And I know I was a dick to you most of the time’

Ian shook his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ up at Mickey, who smiled back at him. His hands were shaking, just like Ian’s.

‘But I was scared’

The small crowd behind Ian had come forward to stand next to him. Fiona stood to his left and Ian blindly reached for her gloved hand, squeezing it hard. On the other side of him, Mandy wrapped an arm around his waist. Their eyes were all on Mickey up there on the roof.

‘Scared of how quickly I fell in love with you’

Ian held back his tears. He was not going to cry.

‘And of how hard I fell’

‘And of what would happen if I admitted it’

‘But I hope I’ve made things up to you’

Ian nodded, his throat tightening. Mickey smiled again.

‘I will continue to make it up to you for as long as you’ll have me’

Mickey smiled wider, sliding his next card into view.

‘You saved me when I thought I couldn’t be saved’

‘I know it took me a long time’

‘I’m still amazed by your patience’

Someone sniffed not far behind Ian, he figured it was probably Debbie. That didn’t make not crying any easier, but he held it back, swallowing down the hard lump in his throat.

_‘Cause it’s a beautiful night, we’re lookin’ for something dumb to do_

‘These years with you have been the best years of my life’

_Hey, baby…_

‘Hey, Gallagher…’

Ian held his breath, his heart hammering so hard and so fast he was sure he would pass out. Fiona’s fingers tightened around his.

_I think I wanna marry you_

‘Remember our first kiss?’

Ian let go of the breath he was holding and the people around him chuckled. He mouthed ‘fuck you’ up at Mickey, who was grinning widely now, looking absolutely beautiful in the bright light. Ian hadn’t noticed until now he was wearing a fucking dress shirt and a tie. Mickey hated ties but Ian thought he looked stunning in them.

Mickey threw the last card away, holding up a new one. ‘That was my very first kiss’

“ _What_?” Ian all but barked but Mickey simply smiled sheepishly.

‘I know, I never told you that,’ the next card read.

‘Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t need anything more “special” you big sap’

Of course Mickey would have foreseen his reaction. But jesus fuck, really? If he had known Mickey hadn’t kissed anyone before he wouldn’t have been such a dick about it. He would have tried to make it special.

‘You know I would have kicked your ass if you tried to pull something romantic’

Ian couldn’t help but chuckle, because it was true. But look at you now, he thought, his heart swelling with pride. Here he was, baring his soul not only to Ian but to his entire extended family, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.  Ian had never asked for grand romantic gestures, but he was a romantic at heart and every now and then Mickey would humor him and take him out for a proper candlelit dinner. Ian loved Mickey for trying, loved him for going to therapy and learning how to hold Ian’s hand in public, how to show affection in front of other people.

This though. This was far beyond anything Ian had ever thought Mickey would do. He was half-convinced that this was a dream.

‘You were a lot of firsts in my life’

‘First kiss’       

 ‘First guy I ever blew’

Mandy said “gross” at the same time as Ian said, jokingly, “What, and not the only?”

Mickey only raised an eyebrow, smirking.

‘First boyfriend’

‘First love’

‘And last’

The first tears ran down Ian’s cheeks before he could stop them, but it was okay, because by now Mandy was trying to subtly wipe her face as well and it was far from easy to make Mandy cry. If Mandy was getting emotional then so could Ian. Mickey seemed thrown for a moment and he fumbled with his next card again.

‘You know where this is going yet?’

‘Can’t believe you didn’t figure it out’

How in the world was Ian supposed to have figured _this_ out? He had never in a million years imagined anything like this. There was a hand on his shoulder now, possibly Lip’s. He didn’t know, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Mickey for long enough to check.

_If you’re ready, like I’m ready_

‘I’m ready to do this with you’

Ian wondered how many times Mickey had practiced this whole routine, to time it with the song and everything. The thought of his entire family apparently knowing about this and helping Mickey with it made him choke up even more.

‘I mean, we can’t get much more domestic, we already have fucking Patrick’

“Who’s Patrick?” Kevin whispered somewhere to the right.

_Hey, baby…_

‘So, Ian…’

_I think I wanna marry you_

‘Remember that time we fucked in Lip’s car?’

Everyone laughed, Frank cheered loudly, and Lip spluttered, “Hey! When the fuck--“

Someone, it sounded like V, shushed him sharply.

‘Yeah, I don’t actually have a story about that’

‘I just felt like getting it out there. Mostly to see your face, Lip’

“You little shit,” Ian murmured, grinning.

‘Was pretty hot though’

“Yeah,” Ian agreed.

Mickey winked at him and Mandy declared them gross again, but the tears in her eyelashes kind of softened the insult a little bit.

‘Anyway, I just want you to know I’m sure about this’

_Who cares, baby, I think I wanna marry you_

‘That I have never been more sure of anything’

‘I wouldn’t want this with anyone but you’

The song was nearing its end and Ian was about to burst, tears still running down his face. The anticipation was building in the small crowd as well. Mandy’s arm around his waist had tightened and he was gripping onto the hem of her jacket with one hand while squeezing Fiona’s with the other.  

‘You made me into a better man’

‘You forced me to see myself for who I am and what I am’

‘Namely fucking gay as hell’

Ian’s laugh was wet and slightly hysterical. Someone behind him rubbed his upper arms.  

‘We’ve helped each other through several hard times’

‘Some in sickness, some in health…’

Fuck. Ian almost couldn’t breathe. If he hadn’t been clutching his sister and his best friend he would have sunken into a shaking heap on the ground.

_We’re lookin' for something dumb to do_

‘I love you more than I ever thought I would be able to’

_Hey, baby…_

‘So Ian Gallagher…’

The stack of cards was nearly gone now, the discarded ones lying in a heap next to Mickey. He seemed to only have two left. Mickey’s hands trembled worse than ever, and probably not just from the cold, as he took the two remaining cards and held both of them up in front of his chest just in time with the lyrics.

_I think I wanna marry you…_

 One card had the words ‘WILL YOU MARRY ME’ written across the entire surface, the letters large and broad. The other bore a single, bolded, question mark.

The song ended with church bells fading into the background and then it was completely silent all around them.

Ian stared at the cards and at Mickey, his blood rushing in his ears. “Yes,” he breathed and then his voice gradually got louder, “Yes. Yes! Fuck yes, get down here, get down!”

The cheers started immediately and people kept trying to hug him but Ian was too busy making his way up to the porch to return any of them quite yet.

Meanwhile Mickey was scrambling to climb down from the roof, sliding down a ladder than Ian hadn’t even noticed was there.

Mickey barely had his feet on the ground before Ian was on him, pulling him into such a fierce kiss that their teeth knocked together and Mickey laughed, squeezing his shoulders.

“I can’t believe you!” Ian gasped once they pulled apart, cheers and applause still all around them. A camera flashed somewhere to the right. “And you get on my case for calling you ‘baby’! We’ve never talked about getting fucking married. The one time I dared to mention it you told me to fuck off!”

Mickey bit his lip, grinning like the smug bastard he was. “I know. Wanted you to be surprised.” He reached up to dry Ian’s face with his sleeve. “You’re such a mess.”

“You nearly gave me a heart attack. That was so… Did you get help writing those?”

 “What, you don’t have faith in my romantic abilities?”

“None whatsoever.

Mickey hummed. “I actually did write them myself. Mostly. Got some tips along the way.”

Ian swept in for another kiss, enjoying the feel of Mickey’s smile against his lips.

“Alright, lovebirds, no baby-makin’ on the porch, there are kids watching!” Kevin called and clapped a large hand on their shoulders, prying them apart. “The party’s inside, come on now, you can get back to all that later.”

Amy and Gemma ran after their father into the house and Ian heard Kevin swear when they asked him if two men really could make babies.

Ian laughed and Fiona took advantage of Ian’s distraction and drew him into a tight hug. He felt Lip ruffle his hair, offering his congratulations, while walking past him to get inside.

“Can’t believe you’re the first one to get married,” Fiona said, holding him at an arm’s length once the hug ended.

“Believe me, I can’t either.”

He was soon ushered inside and was welcomed with more cheers and whoops. He barely had the time to laugh at the banner of pride flags that decorated the doorway into the kitchen before V shoved a glass of champagne into his hand, which he almost spilled when Debbie tackled him, congratulating him with a tear-soaked voice.

“Stop crying or I’m just gonna start again too,” Ian warned when she pulled away.

“Sorry, sorry.” She dried her tears with the back of the hand.

Ian nodded towards the flags, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, that was me, whatever. Suck it up, both of you.”

Ian was about to reply but then Liam walked past him and he quickly grabbed him, pulling him into a playful chokehold. “You lied to me too,” Ian accused, rubbing Liam’s hair as he laughed and struggled. “You little shit, what did they give you to keep your mouth shut, huh?”

Liam squirmed, laughing, and Ian released him. “Umm, Mickey said he would buy me a computer game,” he said sheepishly.

“Oh, I bet he did!”

Ian still couldn’t believe this was happening and he looked over to meet Mickey’s eyes across the room where he was trying to pry Mandy off of him. “Alright, that’s enough,” he said, forcibly shoving her away. She didn’t seem bothered, she simply smacked his ass and skipped off to get herself a drink.

Carl wandered over and gave Ian a one-armed hug. “Congratulations on becoming even gayer than you already were,” he said, smirking.

“Hey, don’t think I don’t know about your little escapades with that kid Troy, dipshit.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Carl shrugged. “At least I still fuck chicks.”

“Uh-huh, Mickey used to do the same thing.”

Carl gave him the finger, walking away saying something about ‘the best of both worlds’.

Mickey walked over to where Ian stood and wrapped an arm around his middle. The giant grin on his face matched Ian’s, and Ian was quite sure that this was the happiest he had ever seen Mickey.

“You know you’re not supposed to drink on your meds,” Mickey reminded him. “Remember last time? ‘Hangover from hell’ you said.”

Ian rolled his eyes. “You just proposed to me, let me celebrate. I’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow.”

Mickey kissed him quickly. “Just this once. Don’t overdo it.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let’s make a toast!” Kevin called over the rabid chattering in the room, silencing them. He raised his glass of champagne. “To the happy couple!”

“To the happy couple!” the room repeated, clinking their glasses together.

Over in a corner Frank waved around a bottle of beer. “To orange juice and Jack Daniel’s!”

The rest of the night went by in a noisy blur of loud music and alcohol. The next morning Ian’s head was pounding so hard he was nearly blind with the pain of it. He moaned, feeling sorry for himself, and pressed his face into Mickey’s warm neck, willing himself to go back to sleep. He could hardly remember anything from the party after a certain point, but the worst hangover in the world couldn’t take away the happiness that welled up within him when he recalled the sensation of his fiancé’s hand in his the entire way home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me end this on this note: Don't be Ian, do not drink on your meds, kids. 
> 
> Please leave a comment.


End file.
